Bittersweet

Today, my son graduated from the 4th grade.  (In his district, middle school starts at the 5th grade.)  For me, it was a bittersweet experience.  I see things through a different lens, I suppose.  He was just three when I was diagnosed with cancer, and at that time, I didn't think I would live long enough to watch him grow up.  Now, here I am, six years later, done with my cancer treatment and hoping I'm cured.  Each milestone means a lot to me.  While I watched his ceremony, tears welled up in my eyes.  He and I have been through a lot, and it was wonderful to see him standing on stage with a smile from ear to ear.  I was so proud of him. He received a gold medal for reading; a medal for student council;  a certificate for leadership and another certificate for excellent attendance.

While I was happy to be there to see this ceremony, part of me was sad, too.  Sad for how quickly time seems to move.  I am enjoying being a mom, and I really try to cherish every minute.  There are so many things that steal our time away, though, that I feel like I've missed opportunities that will never come again.  I saw all the "classroom moms" there, and felt a twinge of guilt.  I teach full time, so I'm at work all day while he's in school, so I never volunteered in his classroom.  My mom was a stay-at-home mom and I remember how much I loved it when she came to my school and spent a day in my class.  She chaperoned field trips and brought gigantic chocolate chip cookies to school for me on my birthday.  I've never chaperoned a field trip for my son's class, but I've gone on many field trips with my students.  I spend more waking hours each day with them than I do with my son.  I have never baked anything for my son's class.  I send cupcakes from a bakery or a bag of chips for a class party.  On Tuesday, his class had a picnic, and I sent Doritos.  He was happy when he came home, telling me they were a hit and everyone ate them up, leaving nothing in the bag.  While I was glad his class enjoyed the chips, it wasn't really that big of an accomplishment to toss a bag of Doritos into my cart at the store.  It isn't like I mixed and stirred the ingredients and made them with love.  At night, I am often too tired to do much with him, and although I listen as he tells me about his day, I do sometimes feel overwhelmed and spend my time grading papers rather than just enjoying his company.  I know, though, that as he gets older, these days will be numbered.  How much longer will he want to hang out with his mom?  I want more time with him, but I feel the clock ticking and I know the teen years are on their way.

I'm really not wallowing in guilt, but I am feeling a sense of loss at the many years that have flown by, and how much I've been unable to do not only because I have to work, but also because of my long term side effects from cancer treatment.  I'm not the mom I envisioned myself to be.  I pictured myself running and playing with my son, but that isn't my reality now.  While I ran four miles a day in the years before he was born, now I'm limited to walking due to severe foot and leg pain and fibromyalgia caused by my chemo treatments. I can't stand up for long periods of time, and some days it is a struggle even to walk.  I see other parents who are actively playing with their kids while I am on the sidelines, sitting in a chair or on a bench, watching, cheering, and doing my best to be a supportive bystander in my child's life.  My son plays soccer and baseball, and he enjoys both sports. We go a lot of places together, and he loves to take trips with me--I call him my "travel buddy."   I know he is in no way being cheated out of opportunities, but there is a part of me that just wants to be able to physically do more with him.

A friend recently accused me of seeing the "glass as half empty. "  She's wrong.  I see the glass as overflowing with love, but somewhat damaged due to all that life has thrown my way.  I'm o.k. with that, though.  I know I am lucky to be here to raise my son and witness his moments of triumph in life.  I just wish, sometimes, that there was a way to slow down the good moments.  I truly love being a mom, and  as each stage has passed, I've wished it could have lasted a little longer, or that I could somehow return to it for a  while, just to savor it:  Holding him as a baby; cuddling him as a toddler;  watching him take off on his bike for the first time; watching him walk across the stage today......each and every milestone is heartwarming, yet  bittersweet, because they all mark time, and it is truly passing by too quickly.

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